Fallen Magician (The Magician Rebellion)

by Cornett, Curtis

  “Let’s go this way,” Tomlin said, pointing down a seemingly random hallway. He turned to look for his master behind him, then added, “I think we should walk a little bit faster.”

  Chapter 7

  The castle’s garden was cool with morning air as Byrn meditated to draw and focus the magic that flowed in his veins. He sat in the grass with his legs crossed and held a new staff in his hands. It was a plain weapon without a spear tip or decoration of any kind and it was, at the moment, decidedly not magical at all. The only thing of interest about this staff was that it was covered in light streams of the magician’s blood as his hands bled over it.

  Byrn fully concentrated on the weapon as he pushed his energy into the staff, infusing it with the magic needed to make it an acceptable device to channel his energy. His old staff and grimoire were destroyed in the fight at the school; when in his grief and pain he unknowingly began to release the that dwelled within him burning everything nearby including his magical weapons and much of his clothes. It was only through the quick thinking of Alia Necros that he was stopped when she placed him under a sleep spell and rescued him from the battlefield where he would have bled to death if left to his own devices.

  “You are not accustomed to asking for help, are you?” Byrn opened his eyes to find Alia standing before him. Instead of her usual black necromancer robes, she was wearing a simple blue dress with a light brown shirt that was more typical of a laborer than a Lady. Alia seemed more relaxed than usual as she watched Byrn enchant the staff.

  “My lady?” he asked unsure of her meaning.

  “There are nearly forty magicians in The Collective with a half dozen masters of various disciplines. No one questions your ability as an elementalist, but I understand that you are not as skilled in enchanting as some of us.” Alia held out her hand for the staff and Byrn gave it freely. “Tomlin, I, or any one of a dozen others could make a far superior staff and grimoire if you were to simply ask.” She hefted the staff and seemed to sense the magic infused within. “Nevertheless, you appear to have some small amount of skill,” she teased.

  “Small amount?” Byrn suppressed a smile and grabbed for his staff, but Alia pulled it away.

  “Did you know that a skilled weapon enchanter can not only infuse an item with greater amounts of energy, but can give it special properties as well?”

  Byrn nodded. “Yes, based on their abilities with the other disciplines.” Melani, the senior enchantress at Avelice’s school, gave him a similar primer on the basics of enchantment when he first joined them, as did Sane before that.

  Alia continued unperturbed, “But a master enchanter can also channel another magician’s own affinities into an item. Like with your natural affinity for fire we could empower your staff to be more conductive of elemental spells in general or fire spells in particular. I saw the fire circle you created at my mother’s cabin. Imagine what you could do with a properly attuned staff.”

  “That spell…” Byrn began, “It just came to me. I don’t know any other elemental masters… except Sane and he never taught me anything so advanced. I cannot guess what kind of magic lies beyond that spell.”

  “There is only one way to find out,” Alia said as she wiggled the staff at Byrn like a dog being baited with a meaty bone.

  Byrn stood so that he was eye to eye with Alia, “What must I do?”

  Alia produced her own short staff that was hanging from her belt and for the first time Byrn noticed the rather large pouches hanging on either side of the belt. One would hold Alia’s grimoire and the other probably held rune markers and who knows what other magical items. She held the rod high, near the simple bauble on its top. “Hold onto this below my hand,” Alia told Byrn and he did. “Now place your other hand on your staff in the same way so that we make a circle between us.” Again Byrn did as he was told and when the circle was formed Alia began chanting. A small wave of energy passed into him like a sudden jolt of lightning from his hand holding the staff and traveled through his body until it came out and traveled through Alia’s staff.

  Another larger wave passed through him again, but Byrn was better prepared for it and found that he could endure its energies more easily. A third, fourth, and fifth wave passed through the magician until Byrn was lost in a constant overwhelming swirl of power and could no longer differentiate one wave from the next. He wondered if Alia, whose expression was one of deep concentration, was experiencing the same sensation and felt as lost in these waves of magic as he did.

  The staff grew warmer under Byrn’s grip and the energy now coursing through him did as well. He looked to Alia who was now beginning to sweat. She was experiencing the same flow of heat as Byrn, but her body was not conditioned as his was to conduct the elements.

  “Alia?”

  “Shhh…” she whispered softly. “I am fine…” The enchantress did not want to break her concentration or her efforts would be wasted. “We are almost…” Byrn grew more concerned and was about to break the connection. “…Done.” The surge of energy abruptly ended and Byrn felt suddenly empty from the missing sensation. Alia stumbled at the sudden release of magic and fell forward into Byrn’s arms.

  The magicians’ staves thumped thickly as they landed on either side of Byrn. He could smell the combination of sweat and flowers on her skin in a strange, but not unpleasant aroma.

  “Thank you, Sir Byrn,” Alia said, a bit embarrassed as she got back on her own footing.

  “Just Byrn will suffice.”

  “Nonsense,” protested Alia, “Surely you desire some recognition for all that you have accomplished. Byrn Firemas, Master of Fire, has a nice ring to it, or perhaps simply Master Byrn?”

  Firemas was the title bestowed upon master of elementalism with an affinity for fire magic; to call himself that felt somehow wrong.

  “Who is to say I am truly a master?” he countered, “I have never met an elemental master save one and I never saw him wield even a tenth of the power that I imagine he is capable of, so I don’t have a fair comparison.”

  “You don’t truly believe that any more than I do. What is the real reason you shun being called a master?”

  Byrn picked up his staff from the ground; he did not answer right away, but finally admitted, “I do not want to dishonor my father by refusing his name. Surely that is something you understand, Lady Necros, or are you a grandmaster of necromancy?”

  “Point taken,” Alia held her hands up in surrender, “but don’t you think your father would be proud of all you have accomplished? Embracing the future does not mean you must forget about the past.”

  Tannys was proud of him. He had said as much himself that night in the garden not so long ago when he summoned his father’s spirit. “Perhaps,” was all Byrn said in response.

  Byrn measured the weight of the new staff in his hands and felt a strange connection to what had only minutes ago been nothing more than a stick. It was not as if the weapon held any magical energy of its own. It felt more like he was connected to it as if the staff was an extension of his arm.

  Testing the staff Byrn willed a small flame into existence at the end of his weapon and found he could maintain complete control over it with hardly any effort. He pushed the spell a little further and grew the fire that was now expanding into a ball hovering above the head of his staff. He held the ball in place for over a minute and felt only a little drain of magic. “This is amazing! It is a truly impressive weapon.”

  The enchantress smiled, clearly pleased with her handiwork. “I am glad you like it,” Alia paused not sure how to continue. Eventually she just decided to ask the question that was most pressing on her mind. “Byrn, your letter mentioned escaping Baj and you happened to find your way to my mother’s school. I have to ask: did you know my father, Xander Necros?” Alia could not mask the hope in her voice.

  Byrn silently chastised himself for being a fool. He knew that Avelice was Alia’s mother and assumed that Xander was her father, but somehow it never occurred t
o him that she would be interested to hear how he was fairing after being apart for at least a decade according to Xander’s telling.

  “Of course! I should have realized- you must be desperate for news of him. Xander was well the last time I saw him if a bit stir crazy. Then again we all were.

  “The Kenzai kept us locked up in our own cells, but each cell was part of a larger cluster of six. We could communicate with each other, but not see or interact in any other way. In that way they could keep us from going completely mad without the risk of us ever having to leave our cells. Your father was the unspoken leader in our cluster. Despite the fact that we were all powerless in there, we still recognized his wisdom and listened to his counsel.”

  “That sounds like my father,” Alia admitted with a hint of a smile at the edge of her cheeks. “Under that kind of lockdown and without magic how did you ever escape?” Alia asked with sudden intrigue.

  “The only way I managed to escape was because I was allowed a little more freedom than the others. I was being trained to control my powers for the day when I would eventually be released and allowed to serve Aurelia.”

  Alia touched Byrn’s arm and he felt a rush of excitement shoot up his arm. He looked into her shimmering blue eyes and felt like he was drowning in them, but he did not want to be saved. When she spoke her voice was soft, but compelling, “How very interesting. Please tell me more.”

  Chapter 8

  The commander greeted Prince Janus Aurel’s entourage as they arrived at Baj Prison in a procession of carriages. The prince’s entourage consisted of his personal guard made up of Kenzai masters, comely servant girls whose sole purpose was to attend to the prince’s whims, and a few forward thinking nobles who were intent on incurring Janus’ favor. They rode in a set of four horse drawn carriages each with a pair of drivers that the commander guessed were also skilled fighters tasked with protecting the prince’s life in the case of the rare bandit attack or, less likely, a magician attack.

  When the lead carriage arrived Prince Janus was the first to exit followed closely behind by a pair of his guards, a young servant who looked to be a favorite of the prince’s for her full lips and full body, and two nobles dressed in attire that the man who now wore the title of Dungeonlord considered foppish though he had the good sense not to say so.

  “It is good to see you again!” announced the prince in a tone that managed to sound regal and affectionate at the same time.

  The commander of Baj bowed graciously. “The pleasure is mine, my prince,” Knight-Commander Kellen Dungeonlord replied happily. Formerly, the knight-captain of the Colum city guard, Kellen was appointed as the new Dungeonlord following a riot and escape attempt that cost the previous Dungeonlord his life years earlier. In addition to being a master of the Kenzai Order, Kellen was also considered a local hero for his years of service in Colum and across the kingdom, making him a natural choice for the appointment.

  “Welcome to Baj, your highness,” Kellen added with a salute. He motioned to an unseen guard in a tower above the gate and moments later the large wooden doors began to open. “If you will follow me, I would love to give you a tour of the facilities. It is an honor that only a few men outside of the Kenzai Order have ever had.”

  The prince walked at Kellen’s side and his entourage from the first carriage followed behind them while the carriages were led into a waiting area where the horses could be stabled temporarily and attended to until the entourage went to Colum. Prince Janus would stay in the nearby city for the duration of his visit since there was no accommodations in Baj appropriate for a prince.

  Kellen led them to the main receiving hall within the prison. “This is the main chamber and functions as a sort of hub for activities here since the hall is connected to all the other areas of the prison. This room also doubles as a staging area that we can use to move about quickly to reach any disturbance and, if necessary, can also be used as a rallying point. It was in this very room that the last escape attempt was thwarted three years ago.

  “As you can see there are five doors in this room and each one is posted with at least one guard at all times. The door on the left leads to the guard barracks and the armory. The one on the right leads to the outer perimeter and to the guard towers along the walls that are manned at all times. The three doors in front of us lead into the prison proper.

  “The prison is comprised of three levels and is designed in a manner that is half maze and half spider web making it impossible to travel from one place to another in a straight line. Within the prison you will notice there are runes all along the walls and within the cells themselves. My Kenzai brothers,” Kellen nodded to the prince’s guards, “will recognize these runes for what they are- anti-magic wards that drain all nearby magical energy and prevent it from regenerating. It is these runes along with the strict measures we use to keep the magicians contained that make Baj such an effective prison.

  Kellen swung open the center door and turned to face Prince Janus presenting the prince his first glimpse within the walls. “Beyond this point, you may take two of your personal guards, but that is all I can allow- even for you, my prince.”

  Grumbling from the nobles who accompanied Janus could be heard at being excluded, but they grew quiet with a wave of Janus’ hand without a look back.

  “Understood, Sir Dungeonlord. I take no offense and neither do my companions, though their disappointment is understandable,” Prince Janus assured him, then flashed a smile to his noble friends to show there were no hard feelings. His diplomatic skills were impressive, indeed.

  The prince summoned the two guards that rode in his carriage and Kellen led them further into the prison toward the prisoners’ cells. The walls were indeed covered in strange runes as Kellen had said, but they did not light up or do anything as Janus thought they would.

  “Is something wrong with these runes?” Janus asked, “They do not appear to be working.”

  “They activate in the presence of magic and will glow with a blue light as they absorb magical energy,” Kellen explained, “Since they have already eliminated all magic in the area, they will not light up unless a new source of magic is introduced.” He led his guests further into the prison until they came to the first cell cluster. “This is one of the cell clusters that we keep the prisoners in. They are kept in the cells at all times to limit the chance of escape.”

  “Fascinating,” said the prince, “Baj seems very secure. You have done well here, Knight-Commander. I will be sure to tell my father of how well you have this place under control, but I must admit I am here for another reason- one that I could not put in the correspondence I sent you.”

  “Your highness?”

  “My father has his own magician, your friend Sane, to serve him and I want to take one of the magicians here with me to serve in the same capacity,” declared Prince Janus.

  “Your highness, I would recommend against that. These men and women are very dangerous,” Kellen told him, careful not to make the prince angry. He had little experience with the prince previously, but according to Sane, Prince Janus tended to have a temper when he did not get what he wanted.

  Instead of an outburst, the prince smiled slyly. “What if I told you that I have discovered a way to control the magicians? I have commissioned the creation of a device that does not rob a magician of his magic as these runes do. Instead it prevents him from using magic or doing anything to harm another except at the command of his master.”

  “Your majesty, such a device could not-“ Kellen began, but the prince cut him off.

  “It does work,” Janus assured him. “I have seen it with my own eyes. Have you heard of the magician Mantellus Firekin? He was the one who dressed up like a priest and kidnapped Lady Tian Nightwind a few months ago. The wizard found his way into our dungeon and I tested it on him. It worked flawlessly!

  “Mantellus has since died, but even now I have that device being returned to me. If all goes according to plan it should reach Colum w
ithin the next few days.” Prince Janus’ eyes were wide and he grinned wildly at the thought. Kellen wondered if the prince was mad for a moment, but pushed the thought away. One day this man would be king of Aurelia and it was treasonous to think such a thing of him. “So tell me, Knight-Commander, who is the most powerful magician in Baj?”

  There were many powerful magicians in Baj. Unlike the domains that held good, law-abiding magicians who had little or no knowledge of how to properly use magic, Baj was filled with magic wielders who developed their powers as they hid from the Kenzai that hunted them. The longer a magician avoided the Kenzai the more powerful they would invariably become. However, Kellen did not have to spend long thinking of all the magicians in his prison to determine who the most powerful one of them all was. His first act as the new Dungeonlord was to read the dossiers of every magician under his guard and among the dossiers was a lengthy file on a man by the name of Xander Necros, a purported grandmaster of necromancy.

  The grandmasters were considered to be a legend by many. They were supposed to have power so far beyond other magicians that they made masters look like mere apprentices by comparison. The last grandmaster was said to have died nearly three hundred years ago when the Kenzai Order was officially established and the balance of power swung back in favor of the normal humans.

  Of course, being unable to use magic in the prison made that claim impossible to prove without exposing Aurelia to unnecessary danger. It was a simple claim that any prisoner could make, because the truth of it could not be verified, but after speaking with the man Kellen felt there was something unusual about the man that he could not put his finger on.

  No good could come of this request. If Xander Necros was truly a grandmaster and he broke free of the prince’s restraint, then he could cause untold havoc, and if he stayed under Janus’ command, then the prince would have at his call a weapon of unimaginable power and no one, not even the prince, should have more power than the king.